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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24034510">Listen To Your Heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrisK4/pseuds/ChrisK4'>ChrisK4</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Les Misérables - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>BookstoreOwner!Enjolras, M/M, Musician!Grantaire, pining!jolras, soulmate!AU</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:14:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,395</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24034510</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrisK4/pseuds/ChrisK4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Enjolras focused back on the music coming from the man beside him, realizing he had missed the introduction to a song. It sounded familiar to Enjolras, but he didn’t think it was one of Grantaire’s originals. He vaguely remembered hearing it before, even if he couldn’t quite place from where. He could hear the acoustic guitar get lower as Grantaire geared up to start singing. The moment that Grantaire began to sing, Enjolras could feel his heart stop. He realized, sitting there next to him, that he had never heard him sing. He had no idea what Grantaire’s voice sounded like. "</p>
<p>You and your soulmate share a song that only the two of you know. When Grantaire comes back into town after five years of travelling to find his own musical destiny, how will Enjolras react to him coming back to their little home town and staying in his apartment?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>108</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Les Mis Big Bang: Quarantine Edition</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Listen To Your Heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>AAAA! This wasn't at all what I wanted it to be, but it is what it is! I really hope you enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The bell rang from the front door of ABC Books, making Enjolras look up from his morning newspaper. Many people came in and out of the bookstore for various reasons, but Enjolras made sure to look up every time to make sure that no customer went without a smile and a wave. It was a trick he had picked up from the owner of this store before him. Lamarque had been his idol through high school, and once Enjolras graduated college, Lamarque gave him the bookstore and retired to an island somewhere. This bookstore had become Enjolras’s home. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Courfeyrac poked his head out from behind the poster he held in front of him. “Did you SEE this, Enjolras?” His voice broke through the early silence of the morning and Enjolras gave him a little glare as he took a sip of his coffee. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“See what, Courf?” He leaned forward and squinted to see better before sitting back and accepting he needed to slide on his glasses. The large dark frames weren’t his favorite, but they were necessary for long distance viewing. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Grantaire is coming back into town before he runs off on another tour!” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And that’s supposed to involve me how?” He looked back down at the paper in front of him. All of the feelings that came back when Courf said Grantaire’s name unsettled him. Most of them weren’t positive. The annoying alcoholic at eighteen, constantly arguing and belittling him. One of the smartest men he had ever met wasting his own potential by going out on the road and playing music. The man who hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye to him before he left. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Your high school rival and big time crush is returning back home and it doesn’t involve you?!” Courf let out an annoyed huff. “Did you not see anything about it in the group chat, Enjolras? It’s all we talked about last Friday!” Enjolras decided to ignore Courf’s joke at his expense. His crush on Grantaire was still a sore subject. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now that Enjolras thought about it, though, he did vaguely remember talks of someone coming back into town, but he hadn’t been able to spend quality time with any of his friends in so long. Getting caught between the town council and the bookstore kept him way too busy.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh. Was that about Grantaire?” His voice sounded uninterested even to himself and he shook his head.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes!” Courf was frustrated with him, but he didn’t understand why. He didn’t understand why any of this had anything to do with him at all. “According to Baz, Grantaire is coming home to perform his soulmate song for the first time in front of a group of people. He seems to think that his soulmate is somewhere here.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Enjolras couldn’t help but scoff. Soulmates. Gross. Enjolras hated the discussion of soulmate songs. When he was younger, it was all he could think about. Hearing the strong drums and brass instruments that his soulsong was composed of made him feel on top of the world and empowered. It was only when he got older that he realized just how suffocating soulmates were. The issues that came with a system where two people were perfectly matched for each other couldn’t be ignored. Soulmate-less people were a constantly rising problem and the deaf and the mute having such a lowered chance of ever finding their soulmates hung over Enjolras’ shoulders. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He also knew to keep those opinions to himself now. Courf and Combeferre had realized they were soulmates out of college and ever since Courf was a firm believer in everything soulmate. He would bet his own life on it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Isn’t that romantic?” He heard Courf say. Enjolras just smiled. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I wish him the best. But I still don’t see what this has to do with me, Courf.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“There’s only one of us with the room to house him.” Courf said it slowly and cautiously, as if he were speaking to a wounded puppy. Enjolras tried to understand why that was. His eyes shot open. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No! No way. We’re going to kill each other!” His protests were ended immediately by Courf’s stern look. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I already told him that he could have your guest bedroom. Did you find a roommate to take that spot?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Then it’s settled. Grantaire needs a place to stay and since Combeferre moved out you’ve been in that stuffy old apartment alone! A week with someone your friends with will do you good... Do it for me, Enjolras? Please?” He said it in a tone that didn’t leave room for arguments and Enjolras’s shoulders slouched. He knew that Courf was right. Grantaire shouldn’t have to couch surf when he had a perfectly good bed sitting in his apartment unused.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Enjolras nodded his acceptance, giving Courf a tired smile. “He can stay with me. I’ll do my best to be a good host. I promise.” He nodded a little and leaned back. Courf beamed at him and that was enough to make this mess worth it. “When is he coming in?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Courf’s beam fell to a sheepish smile.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“In an hour?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“FUCK, Courf!” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>-----</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Enjolras walked into his apartment with a small groan, tossing his coat onto the rack and walking into his kitchen with his shoulders slouched. Working at the bookstore was rewarding, but customer service had never been his strong suit. He rolled his shoulders and poured himself a glass of water before turning and letting out a yelp at the figure standing in the entrance to the kitchen. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>There stood Grantaire in all his glory. The curly haired man was slouched slightly, a weak smile on his face as he lifted his hand. “Hey there, Apollo. Been a while.” The nonchalant nature of the greeting made Enjolras blink. It was as if Grantaire had only been out of town for a week or two. Not five years.The feelings that Enjolras had tried to forget over the past five years rushed up into his throat and he found himself clearing his throat to try and speak. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s a bit of an understatement, don’t you think?” Enjolras set his glass down and walked up to Grantaire, holding out his hand for him to shake. Grantaire looked down at it as if it was an alien gesture, looking up at Enjolras and raising his eyebrows. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What are we, business associates?” His teasing brought Enjolras back to their high school days and he almost retreated his hand. Before he could, however, Grantaire was shaking it with a little too much enthusiasm. “It’s good to see you, o fearless Apollo! Have your quests to better the city worked out for you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Mocking as ever, Grantaire.” Enjolras removed his hand quickly, glaring at him. “It's good to see you too. You seem to have sobered yourself up.” Enjolras grabbed his water and took a drink, watching Grantaire’s face shift slightly. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Five years of not being broke as shit will do that to you.” He said it in the same mocking tone, leaning against the counter. “I was pretty surprised when Courferyac said you were gonna let me stay here. I assumed I would be staying in whatever outdoor garden home Jehan is living in now.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Enjolras waved his hand. “Ever since Combeferre moved out, the second bedroom has been entirely empty. It wouldn’t make any sense for you to stay anywhere else.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Grantaire nodded a little. “It’s all about efficiency with you, isn’t it?” His tone was light and airy as he turned around. “Don’t worry. I don’t plan on getting in the way of anything you’re doing. You won’t even remember I’m here, I promise. I’m sure we have very different schedules anyway.... I won’t even tell anyone how many hair products you have.” His tone was almost malicious by the end of it and Enjolras felt the same rush of anger that he used to experience when he was in his teenage years. Grantaire always brought that reaction out of him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“At least I try to make something of how I look, Grantaire!” He crossed his arms and stared at Grantaire’s back as the other man started to walk back to his room. He didn’t even know why he said it. It just seemed to be the easiest blow he could find. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Trust me. We can tell.” The door to the other bedroom was shut and Enjolras let out an offended little noise. Fuck. This was going to be a long week if they couldn’t even stand ten minutes in the same room as each other. Enjolras wasn’t going to let that happen. He was going to get along with Grantaire if it killed him. He walked up to the door across from his and knocked loudly. He was greeted by Grantaire’s unamused face. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We’re both adults here, aren’t we?” He spoke before Grantaire could say anything. “And if we’re going to be living together for the next week we need to set some ground rules. Find some common ground.” The fight drained out of Grantaire and he tilted his head. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m listening?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t want to argue. I don’t want to fight. It's the first day, for Christ’s sake. Just... Try. Try for my own sanity.” He relaxed his shoulders. “I’m a different person than I was in high school. And... I’m sure you are too. There’s no reason that we have to slide back into absolutely hating each other, right?” His tone was pleading. He didn’t know if he could take a week of tense conversations with Grantaire. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It took Grantaire a minute to respond, but when he did he spoke thoughtfully. “Right. We don’t need to hate each other.” He held out his hand. “Truce? We can just start over. It’ll be a good week. I promise. You might even find yourself having a good time.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Enjolras didn’t sense any malice in what Grantaire said, so he just smiled and gave him a nod. He took a step back and put his hands on his hips. “Then I will see you later, Grantaire. I normally sleep about 11:30. Try not to make too much noise past then?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Grantaire gave him a cocky little grin and nodded, crossing his arms. “I’ll behave, Dad. No worries.” He stepped back into the room and looked around before shutting the door, leaving Enjolras standing in the hallway. They could do this. They could be adults if that’s what it took. They were going to make this whole roommate situation look easy.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>---</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It had been 2 days since Grantaire had infiltrated Enjolras’s living space. After their argument on the first day, they spent those days in relative peace. Granted, they hadn’t ran into each other again, but it was still quiet and peaceful. That illusion broke, however, when Enjolras walked out of his room at 7am and found Grantaire still awake and sitting at the dining room table, his head in his hands and a video playing on his phone while he ate Enjolras’s favorite cereal. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Your taste in cereal is bland, Enjy.” He said it off-handedly, taking another bite with a little grin on his face. “And way too nutritious for a breakfast food.” He leaned back in his chair and paused his phone, crossing his arms. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s important to start your day off with the appropriate nutrients to keep energized.” Enjolras said with no hesitation. He grabbed the cereal box and got a bowl for himself. “Good morning, Grantaire.” His voice was groggy but he stretched out and sat down across from him. “What are your plans for today?” Idle conversation was easy. He did this all the time.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Grantaire raised an eyebrow when Enjolras said it, leaning back and yawning. “As of right now? Go to sleep.” He gave him a grin and crossed his arms. “It’s way too early for me to still be functional.” He chuckled. “I couldn’t imagine getting up this early.” He grinned slightly and pushed the food in his bowl around. “Life of a rock star, you know?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I didn’t even know you actually made it in the music industry.” Enjolras regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. The way that Grantaire’s face fell made Enjolras sit up straighter. “I-I mean, I just haven’t heard any of your music on the radio or anything. Courferyac had to tell me the day you got here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Grantaire took a moment before he responded, letting that comment hang in the air for a moment. “Huh. Well.” He shrugged slightly and leaned back, taking another big bite. “I hope I won’t disappoint you too much.” He said it with an edge to his voice, his eyes seemingly locked on Enjolras’s face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I-... I don’t think you will!” He said it quickly, trying to smooth over the damage he seemed to have done. Grantaire had seemed so happy before he opened his mouth, and now it looked like he had deflated. “I know I was a dick to you in High School.” <em> Fuck </em> , Enjolras thought. <em>S</em> <em> hut up while you’re ahead </em>. “But I never hated you. Combeferre used to tell me that you thought I hated you.” Enjolras didn’t know why he was saying all of this. It just seemed like something he needed to say. Grantaire looked just as shocked as Enjolras felt, and his lack of a response spurred Enjolras on further. “Grantaire, you were always this weird figure to me. I could never quite figure you out. You always just hovered around us.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Grantaire’s surprise seemed to break at that and he laughed. “Yeah...” He said, standing up to put his bowl in the sink. “I wasn’t really great at showing you how I felt, huh?” He said it quietly, rinsing out the milk and little bits of cereal from the bottom of the bowl and turning to lean against the counter. “I didn’t have a really good grip on my emotions as a teenager. Once I got out of town and started seeing my therapist, I realized that there were probably better ways of catching your attention.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Enjolras let out his own shocked noise and sat up straighter. “You wanted <em> my </em>attention?” His eyes were wide and he watched him for a second. “Any time I ever even tried to speak to you, you just looked like I was personally murdering your cat.” The dramatic gasp made Enjolras snort but he continued. “I always wanted to know what you were thinking in the beginning. And then you started talking and I never wanted to know what you were thinking again.” Enjolras hoped Grantaire took what he said as a joke. It was easier to deflect how much he craved their debates than to deal with the reality of it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Enjolras realized they had never had a conversation like this before. One where they just sat and talked about who they were. It made him remember that Grantaire had just left after graduation. No messages or last words. He just vanished. He frowned and leaned back in his chair. “And then... by the time I wanted to hear what you were going to do next...” He trailed off with a frown. “You were gone.” Enjolras remembered why he had been so mad at Grantaire’s return now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Grantaire had the decency to look ashamed, at least. He nodded. “I left.” He said it quietly and crossed his arms, moving to sit back down at the table across from Enjolras. “I knew you thought I was wasting my potential, or whatever. I felt like if I told you I was leaving to start a full time music career you’d just explode on me and tell me it was a waste of time. I don’t think I would have been able to handle it back then.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Enjolras frowned. “You act as though my opinion dictated your entire life, Grantaire. My disapproval didn’t mean you had to stop.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No. Maybe it didn’t mean I had to. But I would have wanted to.” He shrugged slightly. “I wasn’t in a great place in High School.” He said it jokingly, but Enjolras could sense the slight strain Grantaire felt talking about it. He sat up a little straighter and shook his head. “You saw it for yourself, Apollo. It was a miracle if I dragged myself out of bed without a shot of alcohol in me. I swear to god, you could have created a party punch out of my blood alcohol content.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Enjolras knew he was supposed to laugh, but hearing the way Grantaire said it made it difficult to. He wanted to reach out and shake Grantaire. To try and understand why he felt the way he did. What caused him to be so nihilistic and abrasive as he was when he was just a teenager. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I wish I could tell you why.” Grantaire continued speaking without Enjolras prompting him to, and Enjolras focused back in on him. “I started drinking when I turned 16 because it was the cool thing to do.” He said it mockingly, leaning back and gently tapping at his bowl. “I... never stopped from there.” He shrugged. “Papi told me addiction ran in the family. I don’t know why I never believed him.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Things disintegrate fast.” Enjolras said it quietly, watching Grantaire nod in agreement. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They really do. Next thing you know, I’m on harder shit than I’m comfortable talking about and it's like... I can’t stop.” Something inside of Grantaire seemed to be pushing out of his chest. Perhaps it was his lack of sleep or a newfound attitude, but Grantaire seemed to be in the mood to share. “It was just fun at first. And then it became obsessive. Being out on the road... You’re introduced to so many more new things to try.” He laughed sort of bitterly. “I had to stop touring for a year to get myself clean enough to travel. That was sort of my last straw and... it’s why I came here.” He shrugged. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Courf told me that you were looking for your soulmate.”  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That would be a plus. But I don’t expect it to happen. There’s only one person I would want it to be.” His voice was a little sad and he shrugged. “And that’s not going to happen.” Enjolras’s heart broke slightly at his words. He just shook his head and leaned back, grasping for something to say before their moment faded from existence. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I get off at 8:00 tonight. Why don’t we uh... Watch a movie or play some board games together?” He said it curiously and watched a ghost of a smile flit across Grantaire’s face. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah. I’ll try to be awake for it.”</p>
<p>----</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Enjolras’s noises of complaint could be heard around the entire street as R led him outside of the bookstore. He knew Grantaire had threatened to force him out during business hours if he had lost at scrabble, but he didn’t actually think it was going to happen. He thought it smelled of empty threats and playful banter for the next few days. Not... This. Whatever <em> this </em> was. <em> A welcome break from a stressful day, </em>the voice in the back of his head chimed. Why did it always sound like Combeferre when he was telling himself things he didn’t want to listen to. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You look like I’m force feeding you lemon juice, Apollo! Relax! You trust Jehan. Jehan has never let you down. He can handle the bookstore alone for a single afternoon and you know it.” R’s naturally loud voice broke through Enjolras’s thoughts and he turned to look at him. ‘Taire had finally let go of his hand now that they were well past the entrance of the bookstore and quietly Enjolras mourned the loss of the calloused warm hands against his. He didn’t have the time to process the grief before R spoke again. “And anyway, I think you’ll really like what I’m doing.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Enjolras couldn’t argue. As much as he hated leaving ABC Books, he knew Grantaire wouldn’t take him somewhere he wouldn’t enjoy. He had realized that much over the past week, at least. “What are we doing anyway? You’ve been scheming since the travesty yesterday.” His voice had a slight teasing inclination to it, looking down at Grantaire and feeling a smile grow despite his best efforts to retain a neutral expression. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So. I leave for the tour tomorrow.” Grantaire began with an excited laugh. “And I realized that I haven’t fully practiced my singing since we got here. And the best way to tell if I should just cancel a concert and curl back up in the tour bus is to hold a Parkcert.” Grantaire said the last word with such confidence, Enjolras almost didn’t question it, the keyword there being almost. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Park... cert?” Enjolras could hear the laughter in his own voice and he raised an eyebrow over at him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Parkcert. It’s when I do a concert in a park and refuse to charge anyone anything. It gives me a chance to see what songs people want to hear and lets me practice on a real human audience.” Enjolras let that one sink in for a moment and he let out a hum. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I suppose it’s hard to find low stakes practice gigs, huh?” His tone had turned contemplative and he looked over to see Taire’s reaction before turning the corner into the gate for the park. He had more confidence in his stride now that he knew where he was going. Grantaire started leading him to the center of the park and Enjolras followed, vaguely remembering he was supposed to be upset about this. The rush of the tall marble fountain and the cascading water seemed to soothe Enjolras as R pulled his guitar off of his back and sat down on the lip of the fountain. Something he technically wasn’t allowed to do. But before Enjolras could protest, Grantaire was starting to quietly pluck at the strings and Enj couldn’t find the words to do so. He stood in front of Grantaire, waiting for his next move. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Even before my song took off it was hard to find a low stakes practice... It always feels like people are watching you. Watching to see if your song matches with theirs. Waiting to see if you’re going to play the note they need to hear. It’s... suffocating.” He seemed to gain volume as he spoke more passionately, but by the end Grantaire could barely be heard above the rushing of the fountain behind him. Enjolras had to strain to hear his voice. The sound hurt his chest in a way he couldn’t quite express and he stepped forward to take a seat next to him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You aren’t playing for anyone’s expectations here, ‘Taire.” Enjolras let his hand rest on Grantaire’s back and he patted it softly. “Play for you.” <em> For us </em>. Enjolras thought, finding himself running his fingers down the seam of his pants, looking over at him. Grantaire seemed to laugh him off and focus more intently on his guitar.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Enjolras had wished a lot of things for Grantaire over the years he had known him. He wished for his friend to find hope and optimism in the world. He wished Grantaire had cut down on the alcohol and the weed. He wished he could have a conversation with him without feeling as though Grantaire had been mocking him. But as he sat looking at Grantaire doing his finger warm-ups on his old, beat up guitar, Enjolras had one wish for him. He just wished Grantaire would live his life for himself. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It wasn’t easy to imagine them sitting like this five years prior. Enjolras with his head full of ideas and liberty, imagining that he could single-handedly tear down the establishment fuelled by nothing but rage and a rebellious spirit in his heart. Grantaire with his liquor and sharp tongue used solely to provoke Enjolras and try to poke holes in his arguments. The two of them had mixed like oil and water, never able to form a full emulsion despite their overlapping friend group. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>How had Grantaire felt all of those years? How had Enjolras missed the way Grantaire’s hands moved when he focused? How had he missed the loud and abrasive sense of humor that seemed to light up the room when Grantaire entered? Thinking back on it, Enjolras felt as though he had truly missed the essence of who Grantaire was. He always knew that the man was smart, but Grantaire was more than his wit. He was creative and kind. Grantaire was beautiful. A man who had spent so many years feeling broken, had found himself in his music and used it to push forwards.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Enjolras focused back on the music coming from the man beside him, realizing he had missed the introduction to a song. It sounded familiar to Enjolras, but he didn’t think it was one of Grantaire’s originals. He vaguely remembered hearing it before, even if he couldn’t quite place from where. He could hear the acoustic guitar get lower as Grantaire geared up to start singing. The moment that Grantaire began to sing, Enjolras could feel his heart stop. He realized, sitting there next to him, that he had never heard him sing. He had no idea what Grantaire’s voice sounded like. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Honestly, it wasn’t anything like he imagined. When Courferyac told him that Grantaire was an indie folk singer, Enjolras had expected something more high pitched and whiny. Something more like the Grantaire that Enjolras remembered when he left high school those five years ago. It wasn’t like that at all, however. The voice that Enjolras heard was low and gravelly. A voice that had inhaled too much smoke and consumed too much hard liquor. It resonated inside of Enjolras in a way he couldn’t explain. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Enjolras was raised to respect music, of course. He knew he was supposed to find his soulmate through the wonders of song, but he had never heard a song that made him feel as though he were on the incline of a rollercoaster. It felt as though something was swelling in his chest and making it hard to breathe. He understood what Courf meant now when he spoke of hearing Combeferre’s voice and feeling at peace. Something about Grantaire’s deep tone soothed Enjolras. It was as though he could wrap himself up in Grantaire’s voice and find comfort. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>People were beginning to take notice too. A small crowd had begun gathering around them and chattering amongst themselves. Some seemed to recognize Grantaire immediately upon hearing his voice, and took their phones out to begin filming. Enjolras’s face blushed red when he realized he would be in the shot, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. Hearing Grantaire singing beside him was worth the extra attention he was receiving. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Once Grantaire hit the chorus of the song, Enjolras had forgotten all about the small crowd of people and was focused solely on Grantaire. The lyrics seemed personal and solemn. A song about a traveller who never settled down. A traveller who suffered through addiction and loneliness. If Enjolras hadn’t known Grantaire better, he truly would have believed that this was his soulmate song. The song that called out to his soul and would help him find the person he was destined to love.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Love. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The two of them made for an uncommon pair, Enjolras realized. Grantaire was the perfect image of a starving musician. He looked as though he had just stumbled out of the basement of his house after finishing a session with his garage band. Unruly and dark curls poking out from under his old worn Les Amis de l’ABC beanie they custom made in highschool. A large green hoodie that overtook Grantaire’s stocky frame and made him look shorter than he already was. The beat up jeans and shoes completed the look that Grantaire was striving for. Enjolras, however, was dressed for his day job at the Bookstore. The bright red button up and black slacks made him look professional, if a little plain. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>For the first time, Enjolras imagined them standing together. He imagined facing Grantaire and feeling the warm and calloused hands he found solace in cup his cheek and pull him in closer. The thought of kissing Grantaire had entered his mind a lot in the past week, but none of them felt as intimate as this. This daydream wasn’t just an idle fantasy. It was more than that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And that thought scared him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The moment their eyes met, Enjolras found himself hypnotized. He was lost. Being in unfamiliar territory was no new experience for him. Being in unfamiliar territory with the person he loved was a different beast altogether and Enjolras found himself paralyzed. He couldn’t decide whether it was with fear, anticipation, or love. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The scariest thing, however, was that he didn’t want this feeling to end. He didn’t want to break this connection he felt with R. He realized in that moment that he wanted to be the focus of Grantaire’s attention for as long as he could. He wanted to be the person that Grantaire came to when he had troubles writing a song. He wanted to be the shoulder Grantaire leaned on when he was upset. He didn’t think he could stand losing him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The thought of losing Grantaire felt like a knife inside of his stomach. He knew that R was only here for a week. That once morning came, Grantaire would leave. Leave the small apartment they were sharing. Leave the town they had both grown up in. Leave Enjolras. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The final lines of the song Grantaire was singing hit Enjolras in the stomach, and he could feel himself fighting back tears. <em> You better let somebody love you before it’s too late. </em>The words seemed to mock Enjolras, but he didn’t have time to react before Grantaire cleared his throat. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So. I have a special treat for this lovely audience today. I am finally going to release my Soulsong to the public today.” The rush of noise from around the crowd seemed to envelop Enjolras and a feeling of dread seeped into his stomach. If Grantaire was going to play his soul song, that would mean that he would be on a fast track to finding his soulmate. He could lose Grantaire in this very moment, before he even left for tour. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He had just gotten him back! He couldn’t let Grantaire leave again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t have a name for it yet, mostly because I haven’t found them yet. I’m hoping that as I play, the person who’s meant to hear it will find it. So that I can find them.” His voice was quiet and hopeful as he began to beat a steady rhythm on his guitar. The rhythm felt familiar to Enjolras and Grantaire began to sing in a steady and even voice. He began quietly. Quieter than Enjolras would imagine for a concert.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Do you hear the people sing? </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Singing a song of angry men? </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> It is the music of a people </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Who will not be slaves again </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Enjolras felt his stomach twist when Grantaire began. He started softly tapping his hand along, looking over at him with wide eyes. The crowd was silent. It was as if the birds had stopped singing to listen in to Grantaire’s soulsong. Enjolras understood it immediately. The swell of trumpets and snare drums translated to guitar rhythms. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em> W-... When the beating of your heart... Echoes the beating of the drums.” </em> Grantaire looked over in a moment of panic, his eyes wide as Enjolras completed the next lyric, the two of them seemingly gravitating towards each other as if the moment itself compelled them. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em> There is a life about to start when tomorrow comes.” </em> The two of them finished the lyric in unison, and the meaning of the moment was not lost on the audience. Gasps and whispers seemed to spread amongst the people surrounding them. Grantaire didn’t have to sing another line. He had done what he intended. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Enjolras had found his soulmate. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Fuck. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>They watched each other for a reaction, letting the silence linger in the air between them. Applause broke out and in the noise of the cheering, Enjolras stood up and took off.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Soulmates. What a concept. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> ----- </em>
</p>
<p>“Are you going to sit and watch soap operas on my couch for the rest of the night, Enjolras?” Combeferre’s voice sounded amused if not just flat out concerned. Enjolras understood entirely. It had to be a shock. He wasn’t the type to mope on his friends' couches when he was upset. He just didn’t know what else to do. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How long did I spend fighting against the need for soulmates in our modern day world, Combeferre?” Enjolras knew his voice sounded pathetic, but he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t get over how terrifying the whole thing was. He never wanted to meet his soulmate. He wanted to fall in love organically. Unbound by the dictations of the universe and left to decide what his own fate should be. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I fought and yelled about how unfair it was to dictate a soulmate system based around music and no choice. Going back on that <em> now </em> would make a mockery of everything I have <em> ever </em> stood for, Combeferre!” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Who is he?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What does it even matter?!” Enjolras glared up at Combeferre. He felt like he was back in high school, complaining to Combeferre about the universe being unfair until he could find the motivation to do something about it. This time, however, he didn’t think he’d be moving to fix it any time soon. “Whether it’s someone I’ve always known or someone I just met. I will never know if I love them? Or if fate decided I love them.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Combeferre raised an eyebrow slightly, nodding as he listened to Enjolras rant. Enjolras was never quite able to make out his facial expressions when he was serious. “And so your concern is... that you’ll be a hypocrite if you love your soulmate. Is that what I’m understanding?” He said it curiously, crossing his arms and sitting down next to Enjolras finally.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Enjolras nodded. “Not only will I be a hypocrite, how will I ever know if I truly love them?” His voice was soft. “Or if I just think I’m supposed to. Things looked so easy with you and Courfeyrac.” He leaned back and rubbed the back of his neck, looking over at Combeferre. “I knew it was never going to be that easy for me. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You and Grantaire? Of course not.” Enjolras jumped. He hadn’t spoken a word about Grantaire since he had arrived. How had Combeferre known it would about Grantaire at all. “Don’t give me that look, Enjolras.” He shook his head. “Courf is going to kill me for not letting him tell you himself. You two have been obvious soulmate candidates since high school, Enjolras.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That doesn’t change any of my points, Combeferre.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No. I guess it doesn’t.” He shrugged. “But I’ll tell you this. I think you’re underestimating how you’ve felt about Grantaire this whole time. Why don’t you tell me what you think about Grantaire. Don’t hold anything back.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Enjolras scoffed. “I know he’s hot and funny. He’s smart and passionate about his music and art. He knows how to win a crowd over with pure charisma and charm. He is the most annoying person to listen to shower. He’s constantly beating rhythms onto cabinets and tables. I have not had a moment of rest since he came back into town and the thought of him ever leaving town again makes me want to scream.” Enjolras listed off the facts, counting them on his fingers with a frown. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re a bright man, Enjolras. We all know that. Think very hard about your list.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Enjolras did, sort of. Every realization he has had concerning Grantaire was fresh in his mind, and he thought about Grantaire. He thought about Grantaire’s curly hair, tucked under a beanie. His calloused hands pressed against Enjolras’s palm. Grantaire’s laughter when Enjolras scolded him for making up fake words in scrabble. Grantaire’s face changing from amusement to passion as they debate different topics and issues. Every time Enjolras has looked at him since high school and wished he could know how it would feel for Grantaire’s lips to press against him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Enjolras was in love. He had known that already... Why had he run? What had scared him so badly? </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was left pondering that thought as a firm knock beat against the door. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Enjolras!” Grantaire’s voice broke through the threshold. “Let me in, please! We have to talk about this!” He sounded desperate. Enjolras stood up almost immediately and rushed to the door, throwing it open while he heard Combeferre faintly mumble something about private property. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Enjolras stepped back to take in Grantaire. He looked like a mess. Dressed in the same clothes from the Parkcert, Grantaire had obviously been doing a lot of running. “Who knew your soulsong would have so much hope in it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“With you as my partner? It should have been obvious.” He smiled sheepishly at him. “I know you hate the idea of soulmates. And I will never force anything onto you. No big declarations of love or anything. The only thing I want is an attempt. I... I want us to try. I want to try to be the man you can love, Enjolras. I still drink too much. I’m a burgeoning musician whose life belongs on the road. I’m depressed and I’m nihilistic and I think all of your big attempts to change the world are going to fail and hurt you-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Charming-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But. I know that I’ve always believed in you. And... I want you to try and believe in us-” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before Grantaire could finish his sentence, Enjolras’s lips were pressed against his. He had his hands resting on Grantaire’s hips and Grantaire’s arms were laced behind Enjolras’s head. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>As Enjolras suspected, there were no fireworks. No angels singing as flower petals rained from the ceiling. There were just the two of them. Standing together against the future, ready to see what would happen next<em> . Maybe that’s all a soulmate is.   </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So... Does this mean you like me?” Grantaire’s shitty smile was unbeatable.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Shush.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <a> Pls go enjoy the lovely fanart by SwellTeas!! </a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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